Page 12 of R for Rough

Our gossip moment ended when Jon and Lee arrived, so Alessia excused herself to go drop their boy off at the grandparents’. Just a minute later, Taylor showed up too, which completed back-of-house setup.

Technically, Adam and Griffin were back of house too, but since they manned the grill behind the bar, they were included in the front-of-house crew.

I checked the clock on the wall and set our first timer. “Sixty minutes till we open!” Then I walked over to my expo station and logged in to double-check the reservations.

I fucking loved working in a smaller kitchen. We got the right amount of madhouse but never enough to drive me batshit.

Adam waltzed in soon enough, yawning, and asked for his wife. They lived on the top floor, the third floor, so their commute was comfortable.

“She went to drop off Nicky, Chef.” I printed the tickets of the preorders and organized them according to time of arrival. “We have seven tasting menus so far, guys! Two guests on gluten-free, one on vegan.”

Adam huffed derisively and walked out of the kitchen.

I grinned to myself.

Griffin took his break in between services when we had a lull, and that worked great for me. While he occupied a stool in the corner of an unused workbench, eating a grilled chicken sandwich, I took the opportunity to eat too. Wings and zucchini fries for me.

It was a job for a multitasker to eat, run expo, and sign forms at the same time.

Our servers, Aurora and Joey, came out to grab the last two dishes on the counter for the moment, so I estimated I had around fifteen minutes before a new round of tickets poured in.

I stuck a couple zucchini fries into my mouth and walked over to Griffin’s corner with my form.

He eyed me in that unreadable way, but it was better than blatant hostility. Much better.

“In the spirit of disrespecting your request for distance, may I ask you a couple questions?” I asked. I splayed the form next to his plate, and he knitted his brows and glanced at it. Meanwhile, I lowered my voice so the other three guys wouldn’t hear anything. “While I’m very much curious about interrogation play, I’m wondering if the Pursuit is a good place to try it out.”

I wanted him to see what I’d filled out already. You never knew if that might set something in motion. I mean, I’d been thorough. From safeword preferences and level of play toaftercare and…all of it. Y for yes on being open for sexual play, Y for yes on having sent my last STI screening already, Y for yes on being on PrEP, Y for yes on severe impact, et cetera.

Abel had divulged more the other day. Griffin was apparently one hell of a Sadist—in that primal way. CNC, takedowns, no holding back. He had less interest in just beating someone who was tied up; he wanted the brutality that came with primal play. Just like I did.

“Do you regress as a Little?” He didn’t lift his gaze from the form. He was scanning the different boxes I’d ticked.

“Sort of,” I said. “It won’t happen during a takedown, though. Two different mind-sets. But with an interrogation involved, I’m not sure what might happen.”

He clenched his jaw and took another bite of his sandwich.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek and watched him.

“If you don’t know, I’d wait,” he muttered.

“Great! Thanks.” I grabbed a pen from my apron and scrapped the interrogation fantasy for now. Hopefully another time.

He cleared his throat. “When you checked R for rough, are you sure you knew what you signed up for?”

“I have high hopes.” I nodded. “Master Ryan says I’m ready for their brand of rough play.”

He hummed. “What about partners? Are you teaming up with anyone for this event?”

I shook my head. “No, Sir. I think there are three of us bottoms who are single, and I guess we’ll just have to see who catches us. Master Waylon and I have played a little bit before, but we don’t have the right chemistry.”

He finally flicked a glance my way. “Because he’s a high-protocol Master.”

Partly because of that. “Yeah, but…sometimes you can’t put a finger on it. The connection is either there or it isn’t.”

He nodded with a dip of his chin and crammed the last of his sandwich into his mouth.

“What about you?” I asked. “Are you joining?” I wasn’t ready for the moment to be over. Talking in a civilized manner was progress for us!

---